


Just Another Cliché

by blakefancier, Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake has to rescue Avon from sexual slavers by purchasing him. However, they insist on a 'try before you buy' policy, to cut down on dissatisfied customers.</p><p>Avon is not happy at all. Blake isn't going to let Avon stand on his pride, though.</p><p>(I'd call it more dubious consent than rape, but best to err on the safe side.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> Published in Fire and Ice 9, yet another AU RPG turned to fic. Blakefancier is always my Blake, and I'm always Avon. Sometimes we just felt like going with Ye Olde Clichés and this plot is one of the oldest.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

It was _supposed_ to be a holiday, a simple holiday on the planet Delios; noted for its neutrality and general air of dissipation. Blake had disapproved, and stayed on the ship. That very disapproval had made Avon determined to go down even if all he did was walk off some of his frustration.

He hadn't walked very far when an attractive young woman stopped him to ask him for directions. The moment he said he was a stranger himself, something stabbed him in the side, and everything went hazy. Hands caught his arms and he was propelled along through a vague shadowy tunnel of people-outlines and clouds of sound that sometimes sounded like 'he's all right, we're taking him home to sleep it off'.

What seemed like a long time passed in fits and starts of fuzzy grayness and brighter flashes where things almost made sense. He became gradually more aware, and jerked forward, startled off-balance on coming to consciousness to find himself already standing on his feet.

Avon struck out at the large shadow in front of him. His fist made a satisfying connection before hands pulled him away. He braced himself for a beating, but instead they gave him another injection. He remained aware this time; aware, and increasingly angry.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir, terribly sorry," an obsequious voice squeaked on in a way that made Avon feel nauseated. "You did say you were interested in an untrained one."

The big shadow approached Avon again. It touched his hair. Avon tried to jerk away from the touch, but his balance was also shot to hell and instead he staggered forward, only to be caught by a pair of strong hands. At the touch, his cock came to life with astounding speed. Groggily, Avon muttered,"What the hell was in that..."

From the centre of the shadow came a voice. "He's a clumsy one." That voice... Avon was grabbed by the chin and held against his will for a long moment, the shadow so close he could feel its warm breath on his cheek. "Do you have any special skills, boy?"

 _Blake!_ Avon automatically reacted to the concealed mockery in the tone, still too befuddled to understand why Blake was treating him this way, and bared his teeth in defiance. "You know what I can do." 

Blake said, "I'm not in the habit of socializing with sex-slaves." There was a pause and Blake sounded as if he was talking to someone else, "I want to see more of him. Strip him to the waist."

Avon braced himself for a fight, but too many hands were on him and all he could do was curse them and writhe as they pulled off his jacket, tunic, polo-neck and finally his cotton undershirt. Cool air struck his chest and he shivered, feeling his nipples tighten as the last of his upper clothing was dragged over them.

The sickly sweet voice began talking, "Note the intelligent look on his face! Look at his noble nose, and his lovely brown eyes." Then the shadow who was speaking pinched Avon's nipples and dragged down his trousers to expose and fondle his cock and balls.

Avon bit his lip and tried not to let out a sound, only a harshly in-drawn breath escaping his control. With all the hands holding him in place he couldn't free himself from the knowledgeable fingers that casually roamed over his genitals while the oily voice described his reactions in terms of the pleasure he could provide a master. Avon sneered again at that, and tried futilely to kick the man away from him. "I'm no man's slave!"

Blake laughed. "I do like his spirit."

Oily voice said, "Sir, I urge you, take a better look, see for yourself how delightfully responsive he is."

Avon snarled, but after a pause, Blake began to handle Avon's cock, stroking the head with his thumb. Avon jerked at the touch. "He's very sensitive," Blake commented.

Blake's handling wasn't quite as sure as the other man's... but it was _Blake_ and that suddenly seemed so erotic, having the man he'd fought so intimately now touching him so intimately. Avon moaned and pushed his hips forward into the caress. Blake said, sounding amused, "No man's slave? You seem quite eager to be mine."

Avon shook his head in denial, even as his cock leaped at Blake's words. "No..." but his protest sounded more like an eager moan. He felt his face flush with desire, and his lips parted, gasps and moans escaping from his mouth as Blake fisted his cock, stroking it slowly.

"Yes. Say yes," Blake demanded.

Avon shook his head and bit his lip, but Blake's rich voice continued, and Blake's hand worked on him, so tight, so lovely tight... "Yes...please..." he finally groaned.

Greasy voice said, "I congratulate you sir, on your quick mastery. It's very gratifying to see such a good match of my wares to my customer."

Blake let go of Avon and stepped back. Panting, he said, "I want to try him before I decide to buy. He seems like an obedient little slave, but I can't be sure until I've tasted him."

"Of course, sir, of course. That's the store policy, 'try before you buy'. Only serious customers of course. It wouldn't do to let the merchandise become shop-worn." Greasy voice suddenly turned authoritative, "Take him into the back room and prepare him."

Avon's vision started to clear and he tried to fight, but the men were experienced at their job and far too efficient to give him an opening. He rediscovered just how painful a simple thing like an arm forced backwards up along the spine can be. He clung to the thought that Blake was here and would not allow this to go too far, repeating it over and over to himself during the discomfort and humiliation as an enema was administered, followed by the insertion of something cold and slippery into his rectum. For a moment he assumed the worst was over when the object was removed, but then one of the men shoved a greasy finger into him.

The one with the finger inside Avon commented,"Tight." Another man asked, "Should we loosen him for the customer?" They discussed it for several minutes, holding him still while the man probed Avon with his finger, ignoring Avon's curses. They finally came to the consensus that his virginal tightness would fetch them a higher price, as the customer seemed to want something new and untouched. He was pushed onto a low, padded surface and left in a suddenly quiet room as the door shut behind the last of the men.

Avon lay on the bed, enough of the drug still active to keep him from pacing the room. It only had one door, and outside of that were the four men who had so easily subdued him, so there wasn't much point in attempting escape yet. 

The door opened. Avon didn't bother to look up. Blake came in, sat on the bed and stroked Avon's inner thigh. In a cold voice, he said, "Did they prepare you properly? They didn't injure you, did they? I'd hate to buy damaged goods."

Avon shivered and looked up at Blake. "I'm all right." He drew his knees up, trying to hide his erection. His mind was also beginning to clear and he realized Blake was trying to tell him something... but what? Blake's eyes moved to the side, and Avon followed their path, recognizing the concealed vid-cams. He shivered again as he remembered how easily the men had overpowered him. They could just as easily overpower Blake if they suspected he wasn't a customer. "I don't ... I don't want to be here... please... I'll do whatever you want... just take me out of here..." He tried very hard to send a silent message to Blake, _I'll kill you **later** for having witnessed this._

"We can't, not yet." Blake paused. "Not until I've decided whether or not I want to buy you. My associates aren't expecting me back for several hours, so we have plenty of time." Blake toyed with Avon's nipple. "Not that it matters, but have you ever been taken by a man?"

Avon felt his face flush and he had to force himself to meet Blake's gaze. "Go away. I don't need your help." He tried to get up, no longer thinking about surveillance, just getting away from the pity in Blake's eyes.

Blake grabbed Avon and shoved him back against the bed. He lay on top of Avon, pinning him down. "Oh, I think you do need my help. Or would you prefer that one of those men out there fuck your tight little arse? _Think_ about it."

Avon shut his eyes and groaned as the pressure of Blake against his groin made it very difficult for him to think about anything at all. "I don't want to..." His arms went of their own accord around Blake's waist, then lower, hands grasping Blake's buttocks. "Don't want to think... it hurts..."

"Then don't think." Blake kissed down Avon's throat to his chest and roughly licked, sucked and bit at his nipples. Looking down, Avon saw a fleeting expression of sadness cross Blake's face and he was confused. _Why should Blake look sad?_ Then Blake reached underneath Avon and slipped a finger between his cheeks, nudging his hole. "Good, they prepared you. You had better be as tight as I was told."

Avon winced, then forced himself to relax, logic informing him that tension would only make matters worse. _How strange- I expected assault in prison but went untouched, only to be raped now by the morally pure savior of the masses._ A sudden fear went through him. _What if Blake can't do it and we are discovered?_ He put a hand between them, and discovered proof that Blake would not fail him. Blake moaned and rubbed against his hand. _Oh, damn... Blake is hung like a donkey, as Vila had crudely pointed out one day on the flight deck when we were all more than a little drunk._ Avon made a quiet admission, "I've never had a man." He closed his eyes, then opened them, staring unfocussed past Blake at the wall behind him. "I don't... I don't know... if I can..."

Blake put on a not terribly convincing smile. "Well, well, I will be getting my money's worth." He whispered loudly into Avon's ear, "I'll have to make it special for you, won't I?" And then added very quietly. "I'm sorry." He slowly pressed his finger into Avon, face intent as if searching for something.

Avon gasped in surprise as Blake's finger pressed something inside him. He'd been braced for pain, and encountered pleasure instead. His knees jerked up and his cock bobbed with enthusiasm. He was as hard as he could ever remember being, but touching his cock wasn't enough. No matter what he did, it wasn't enough. Whatever drug they gave him seemed to have been designed to ensure the slave could not achieve release without ... Blake's finger moved again, gently, and Avon was pushing back on it, knowing instinctively that this was what he needed. What he _must_ have. "Do it, do it, then, you bastard." He groaned as Blake slowly removed his finger. Avon whispered, "I need it. Help me..."

Blake stroked his hair. "You are lovely when you're excited." He slapped Avon on the hip, the sound loud in the quiet room. "On your stomach, it'll be easier that way." He looked around and picked up a tube of oil from a small table near the bed. "I don't want to damage my property before I get it home. And I am going to own you. Aren't I?" There was a long pause, and Blake said, "Say yes."

Avon rolled over, awkwardly because of his erection and the lingering drug-clumsiness. He put his head down in the soft mattress and clenched his fingers into the smooth sheet covering it. He said quietly, "Yes... you're going to own me." Avon swore he could feel the heat coming from Blake's body beside his. Avon's pre-come soaked into the bedding, making him feel lower than a whore- who, after all, need only _pretend_ to be aroused when being used for another's pleasure.

"Look at me." Blake grabbed Avon by the hair and forced him to turn his head. Then he leaned forward and kissed Avon gently on the mouth. He whispered, "It's only the drug. I'm sorry." Blake rolled on top of Avon and slowly kissed down his spine.

 _Blake is putting on a good show,_ Avon thought bleakly, _better than I would be able to simulate under the circumstances...why doesn't he just fuck me and have done?_ Avon had always had a quirky metabolism, and whatever had been clouding his mind was rapidly lifting, no doubt far sooner than expected. _Surely there is no need for all this... tenderness..._ His puzzlement grew as he thought back to the look in Blake's eyes. It was not disgust at having to perform a distasteful act, nor even simple lust, if Blake had the strength of will to imagine his partner one he found desirable. Soft, sucking kisses followed the line of Avon's backbone, tender lips caressed as gentle hands spread him... and oh.... Blake's tongue dipped inside and Avon felt himself softening, eager to accept that most intimate kiss of all.

Blake circled Avon's hole with his tongue, slowly, very slowly, and when Avon relaxed against the touch, he began slowly penetrating Avon with the tip of his tongue.

Avon spread his legs and moaned into the mattress. His mind was sharper now, and he had analyzed Blake's responses to him, not just in this room, and found they led to one conclusion. _Blake **does** love me. And he's being damn bloody obvious about it. The idiot will get us both sold as slaves! Unless..._ Avon pulled away from Blake, panting. "So, that's what gets you hard, Master." He grabbed rudely at Blake's crotch. "You haven't got it in you to take a real man. You have to play games; to make him think you give a damn about him. How you must laugh after he's spread himself for you. Well, you won't have that from me! If you expect to be my master you'll damn well have to take me!" He lunged at Blake and got his mouth next to Blake's ear. Avon whispered fiercely, "Do it! Fight me, or they'll have us both!"

Blake pressed a quick, hard kiss to the side of Avon's neck. Then he seized Avon's wrists and jerked his hands behind his back. "If that's what it takes." They tussled for a few minutes before Blake forced Avon onto his back, hands pinned underneath him. Blake reached down and stroked Avon's cock. "You are enjoying this. You're nothing but a little whore. My little whore."

"Prove it, then! Big man." Avon sneered and his eyes were bright with the excitement of the struggle, along with now-natural arousal. _Should I tell Blake that the drugs have worn off? No, it's too risky._ He bucked underneath Blake, nearly unseating him.

Blake laughed, and something in the tone convinced Avon that Blake knew his cooperation was no longer forced. Blake flipped Avon over and pressed a knee to his back to keep him still. Avon heard Blake open his trousers and smelled oil and heard the slick sound of it being spread on Blake's cock. Then Blake straddled Avon's thighs and slipped two fingers into his body. He paused a moment, giving Avon's body a chance to adjust, then began thrusting them in until Avon was helplessly pushing back, fucking himself on Blake's fingers. "It's been a long time since I had a virgin. I'm going to enjoy deflowering you." He pulled his fingers out and pushed his cock in, guiding it in slowly, as if enjoying the sensation too much to rush it.

Avon struggled a little, for the sake of appearances, and because, well, it _was_ actually uncomfortable being stretched to accommodate Blake's large cock. It didn't hurt enough to deflate his interest, but enough to take the edge off his arousal. He lay there, trying to analyze his feelings, to distract himself from the fact that not only was he permitting Blake to fuck him, he was enjoying it. The bulk filling his rectum sent confusing signals to his brain. Blake must have sensed his tension, for he stopped pushing in, and substituted a gentle rocking motion that eased the pain in some odd way. For a moment, Avon desperately needed to evacuate his bowels, and once he convinced himself that wasn't true, his bladder then insisted it was full to the point of bursting. "Move, move, damn it!" Avon refused to add to his embarrassment by pissing the bed. He desperately needed Blake to convince his body this was actually a sexual act and not an odd lavatory experience.

Blake bit the back of Avon's neck and shoved the rest of the way in, then lay on Avon breathing heavily. After a long moment, he moved, slowly at first, shifting until Avon let out a gasp of surprise at the pleasure. Blake then began to thrust steadily, hitting the same place each time, making Avon moan beneath him. Blake told him, "You're mine. You'll always be mine. In future, no matter matter how many men take you, I'll always be your first. You'll always measure them against this experience. You're mine."

Avon growled, "Shut up and fuck." Then he braced himself mentally and physically as well as he could.

Blake laughed and said, fondly, "Little whore." He began shoving into Avon roughly.

The sensations ween't like any sexual act Avon had ever done. He had thought he enjoyed being in command, but surrendering to Blake made him feel even stronger, more masculine. It was a delicious paradox, along with the way pain transmuted to a pleasure so overwhelming there were instants when it shifted back to pain, then to pleasure again in a heartbeat, until he could not swear which he was enjoying most, which was most arousing him. Each of Blake's powerful thrusts shoved him deep into the mattress that cradled his cock and pressed his balls. He was surrounded by sensation, above and below, and most excitingly, inside. He had long since stopped fighting and was now simply wallowing in the experience, wanting it to last forever.

Blake whispered into Avon's ear, hot and intimate and obviously not meant for the eavesdroppers. "Yes, you do love this. You love my cock up you. Love me owning you." Blake growled and nipped at the side of Avon's throat. He quickened the pace of his hips, moving jerkily, harder and with less care as to the angle. He sucked hard on the skin of Avon's neck, hard enough to leave marks. 

Avon arched, and came into the sheets, tightening around Blake's cock still plowing him roughly. Blake groaned, and whispered fiercely into Avon's ear, "Love you!" then he cried out again, and slammed his hips into Avon's body as he came.

Avon lay stunned both by the force of his orgasm and by the realization that he felt a tremendous pride in Blake's. The hot body laying heavily on top of him, panting and sweating, suddenly had a value beyond 'respected adversary' or 'reluctant ally' or even 'unadmitted friend'. Absurdly, Avon felt protective of the man who'd just fucked him into the mattress. Which reminded him... He shook himself, shaking Blake in the process. "Wake up! Wake up and get off me!" He turned his head so he could whisper in Blake's ear. _"Get us out of here!"_

Blake blinked at Avon, shook his head and slowly sat up. He grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and threw it at Avon. He tucked himself back in and did up his trousers. Then, using the pretense of straightening his cuffs, he touched his comm. He whispered, "Liberator, are you there?" Vila started to answer and Blake cut him off hastily, taking off his extra bracelet and handing it to Avon.

Avon snatched the bracelet and clamped it on his arm. He hesitated for a second, then slammed down the comm button. "Teleport! Teleport, now!" Someone with a brain must have been watching the vids for the door banged open just as the teleport effect took both Blake and Avon. 

Vila was sitting at the teleport console. "I was very quick, if I do say so..." Vila's mouth dropped open and he stared at Avon who was sitting on the deck, tousled, flushed, and wearing a blanket draped around himself. Vila looked at Blake. "Erm... so you got him all right, then?"

Blake grinned. "Oh, yes, I got him." He stood and offered his hand to Avon. "We should get you to the medical unit."

Avon accepted Blake's hand and got to his feet. He gave Vila a silencing glare, then walked very carefully to the exit.

"I meant what I said," Blake said quietly once they were far enough away from Vila's keen hearing.

"Did you?" Avon replied, coolly, turning aside, but not before catching a glimpse of Blake's grin. Avon made a mental note to do some sexual research. He'd show that smug bastard a thing or two.


End file.
